


crack open my ribs, find gold inside

by Iris_Duncan_72



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angels, Complicated Relationships, Demons, Heavy Petting, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Morally Ambiguous Character, Non-Explicit Sex, Touch-Starved, Trope Subversion/Inversion, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-27 15:40:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20048464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iris_Duncan_72/pseuds/Iris_Duncan_72
Summary: An angel and a demon walk into a bar.





	crack open my ribs, find gold inside

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by a post i saw and sofia's enthusiasm, ily darling <3
> 
> this says non-explicit smut but uhhh it's more like semi-explicit. no mention of dicks tho, dw :^)

An angel and a demon walk into a bar... Sounded like the beginning of a joke, didn’t it? Only it wasn’t. The demon walked in and a while later (time didn’t mean much in these places), so did the angel.

The demon sat at one end of the bar, shoulders hunched up around his ears, exuding strong _fuck off_ vibes. A glass a something amber-hued and strong-smelling sat on the dark wood he leaned against.

Most angels would’ve been sufficiently intimidated and kept well away from that corner, but then again, most angels wouldn’t step foot in a bar like this. The sign outside marked it as a wayfarer’s tavern, a place open to all travellers. Angelic drinking houses only permitted those with a certain level of purity to enter, their shining gold walls rarely scratched by shattering glass or smeared with blue ichor and red blood.

This angel, however, did not care for such places and he entered the wayfarer’s tavern with confidence. A few eyes turned his way as the door swung shut behind him and a few more joined them when they saw his swinging braids, the gold helmet tucked under one arm – markers of angelkind. Those same eyes flicked away again when the angel made no aggressive movements, simply striding up to the bar and ordering a drink.

Taking a sip of the neon-blue liquid and hissing as it burned on the way down, the angel strolled towards the demon and sat three bar stools away. The demon made no response but the silence was thicker than curdled milk.

The angel set his helmet on the glossy bar with a quiet thud and took another mouthful of his drink.

The demon swirled the amber liquid in his glass, viciously sharp black nails clinking against it, and drank.

One edge of the angel’s plush mouth curled up just a fraction. He did not look at the demon as he murmured, ‘It’s been a while.’

‘Not long enough,’ was the reply.

‘You always say that.’

‘It’s always true.’

They both drank, neither turning to the other.

‘How’s the conscience holding up?’ the angel asked when it became apparent that the demon wasn’t going to speak.

Nails harder than steel (claws, really) clacked against glass. ‘_Your_ conscience is surviving. How’s my lack of one treating you?’

The smile grew a little more. ‘Magnificently. Angels like to feign superiority over demons and other creatures less pure than us, even those _with_ consciences, but we are no different. We are just as cruel – we’ve simply learned how to lie to each other and ourselves.’

A whisper of a snarl. ‘What did you do?’

‘Get appointed Major General,’ the angel smirked, taking another sip.

‘What did you _do?_’ the demon repeated, his voice wavering on the edge of a growl.

The angel tapped his chin with his forefinger, pretending to think. ‘Well, a few things? I burned half a planet to embers. Only half, you know, to serve as a reminder for the other side in case they should ever think of rebelling against the Divine Republic again.’

The demon drained his drink and slammed it down on the bench, immediately signalling the barkeep for a refill. His hands trembled as he lifted the glass to his lips once more.

After a few moments of tense quiet between them, the demon said gutturally, ‘I want to kill you.’

‘I know,’ the angel replied. ‘I want to kill you too.’

They spoke the words like a promise, assuring each other of their continued mutual loathing, but they were both aware it was more for the demon’s sake. After all, he was the one who had to justify everything to a conscience.

The demon swallowed, jawline sharp, and he ground the heels of his palms into his eye sockets. ‘I can’t keep doing this,’ he whispered. ‘I can’t.’

‘Thought you said the conscience was surviving?’

‘It _is_,’ the demon snapped. ‘But it’s fucking killing me. Your stupid, awful, thrice-damned _conscience_ –’ he spat the word like the curse it was – ‘is _killing_ me.’

At last the angel turned. Only slightly, tilting his chin to the side so he could look at the demon. In anyone else – _anyone_ else – this suffering and very real inner torture would have been amusing, but not in this demon. Not in he who bore the weight of something so completely anathema to him, who bore it in the angel’s stead.

‘Let me help you,’ the angel said softly.

The demon stiffened, knuckles going white where they were fisted in his ashen hair.

‘You’ll feel better afterward, you know this.’

Shaking his head without lifting his face from his hands, the demon hissed, ‘I cannot. I can_not_. Your - it will not be lied to; it knows I am doing this only to appease my own pain.’

Pain. The angel knew it well, having fought on many a battlefield in his long life. That was usually only physical pain though. He knew nothing of internal anguish, a sordid emptiness existing within him where his conscience should reside.

What he did know was that he could not let the demon be ground to dust beneath the unforgiving relentlessness of an angelic conscience. Why? He could not say. The reasons were probably selfish, as he had no sympathy to give.

‘I am freely offering you help,’ the angel insisted. ‘You know I wouldn’t do such a thing for any other being alive or dead in this universe.’

Slowly, the demon’s fingers unwound from his hair. He turned his head just a little, so that one shining white eye was visible and he could see the angel, his long black braids framing a severely handsome face. A freckle under one burning orange-gold eye was the only point of asymmetry.

‘You don’t know _how_ to offer something freely,’ the demon muttered.

‘Am I asking you for anything in return?’ the angel demanded. ‘No. Nor will I take anything by force. Accept this, M–’

He cut himself off abruptly before the demon’s name could slip from his tongue but the demon lifted his head, staring at the angel with star-bright eyes set above sharp cheekbones.

‘Say it,’ he commanded.

The angel exhaled through his nose and held the demon’s intense stare. ‘Accept this... Minho.’

A shiver rippled over the demon and he sighed, long lashes dipping down and up. His capitulation was plain to see in the set of his small mouth.

‘To do so I must put trust in you, an angel with a cold heart.’ The demon’s gaze fell to his glass. ‘If you break it this time, I am unlikely to survive.’

The ease with which Minho spoke of his own demise angered the angel for unknown reasons and he bit out, ‘Say it back.’

The demon’s upper lip curled and he glared at his drink. ‘Part of me wants to lord this need over you, to manipulate it so subtly you’ll never realise what I’ve done. Most of me wants to.’ A quiet snarl rumbled in his chest. ‘But I am broken.’

The angel had no response to that – he was just as broken. Such thoughts were pointless, anyway. They were as they were and knew no way to change that. He drummed his fingers meaningfully on the bar.

‘I don’t want to say it,’ Minho said carefully, tapping one claw against his glass.

Temper flashed under the angel’s skin, hot and ruthless, but he suppressed it with gritted teeth. ‘Minho. We can’t continue until you do.’

‘I know, I know... Still don’t want to say it.’

‘How about an incentive?’

The tapping stopped.

The angel slid his hand across the smooth bar, closing the space between them, palm up.

‘Freely given,’ he reminded the demon quietly.

Minho looked at the pale, callused hand lying so close to his elbow and a voracious hunger gripped him in its jaws. He slowly unfolded an arm, clawed fingertips hovering above the angel’s palm. The angel did not move and when the yearning within him reached a peak, the demon pressed the pads of his fingers against soft skin.

They exhaled sharply. The bond between them, anchored in touch, snapped back into existence and their senses were awash with each other. It was as though their core selves were two halves of one whole so whenever they came into physical contact, all barriers fell and they became as one.

It was an incredibly heady experience and not one Minho felt capable of handling much of in a public bar so after mere moments, he retracted his hand, curling it into a tight fist regardless of how his nails bit into his flesh.

‘You weren’t exaggerating when you said it’s killing you,’ the angel realised, leaning back and breathing hard.

Not fighting the urge to bare his teeth, the demon agreed, breathless, ‘No. I wasn’t.’

The angel drained his drink, shuddered, and said, ‘Say my name, Minho. Say it and accept my offer so I can help you stop dying.’

Minho always gave in eventually. As miserable as his existence was (his angelic conscience and his demonic nature were _not_ friends), he had no wish to die yet and that didn’t leave him with many options.

So he met the angel’s fiery gaze and said, ‘I accept, Hyunjin.’

And Hyunjin’s face split into a beautiful grin, his eyes curving into delicate crescents, his cheeks bunching up, and his plush pink lips stretching wide. He was the very image of a perfectly pure angel, if only one did not look below the surface.

‘Good,’ Hyunjin said, rising from his seat and tucking his helmet under one arm. ‘Let’s go then.’

The demon left a gold coin on the bar to pay for their drinks and followed the angel out. They stopped just past the threshold, looking up at the glittering cosmos sprawling past the edges of the tiny bubble this tavern inhabited.

‘My place?’ Hyunjin suggested cheekily.

Minho levelled a very unimpressed glare at him. ‘Not on your life. Miroh will do.’

The angel shrugged, feigning nonchalance, but the demon could see excitement building in him.

With no more words needed, the demon flexed his back muscles, shook loose his wings. Huge, non-corporeal, and shiny black like an oil slick, they passed through his shirt without tearing the durable fabric. Beside him, Hyunjin’s wings came to life in a flurry of shimmering gold and he slid his helmet firmly into place. Then they took to the skies, bursting out through the protective skin around the wayfarer’s tavern.

Both powerful beings in their own right, it became a race to see who could cross the galaxy and reach their destination first. Hyunjin was very fast but Minho was feeling particularly ruthless right now and, unable to vent his fury through violence, he settled for trying to pass as a comet.

He felt slightly vindicated when he touched down on Miroh a whole two heartbeats in the lead. Panting, the angel side-eyed him but wisely made no comment.

Miroh was a world of ever-changing mazes where up was often down and right was often wrong. To find something, you had to be looking for it and ready to follow the most tangential path possible to reach it. There were nine layers – at least, nine that required very little looking to find. Anything beyond that was hearsay and unreliable.

The angel and the demon went directly to the tenth layer.

A tall house on a tiny island set in an endless ocean waited for them. It was familiar but also not because it wasn’t only the mazes on Miroh that never stopped shifting. This layer was only even attainable to the demon and the angel because they were prepared to change. Indeed, they _expected_ to change.

There was no longer a door at ground level so they flew up the balcony that wrapped around the lofty upper level of the house. The illusory sky was painted with rich purple and deep blue, only the horizon splashed with the gold and red of a setting sun. Thus the light was dim as Minho opened the glass door and entered the bedroom behind it.

It was different from last time – now the room took up this entire floor, the top of a staircase in one corner leading down to the lower levels. Enormous windows in every wall ensured the room was filled with soft evening light, illuminating the dark wood panelling and the huge white bed swathed with gauzy curtains.

The demon stopped, unable to move forward, throat tight as he stared at the bed. Behind him, the angel stepped through the door, leaving it open as he walked around Minho’s motionless form. He removed his dully gleaming helmet and set it down on a stool near the bed, his wings folding in and vanishing.

Hyunjin turned to face Minho and the demon saw sensual grace in the angel’s expression, his posture, and his heavy-lidded eyes. The demon collapsed his own wings and felt the conscience stir to life, questioning what was about to happen.

The angel approached the ashen-haired male, lifted a hand, and murmured, ‘Freely given.’

Minho exhaled long and slow, then tilted his head just barely to the side, inviting Hyunjin’s touch. A pleased smile curled around the angel’s mouth and he trailed his hand down the curve of Minho’s neck, protected by a high collar.

‘Don’t tease,’ the demon said quietly. His cloudy white eyes blinked up at Hyunjin, betraying the depth of his painful need for touch.

The coldness that lay within Hyunjin encouraged him to push, to see how much more the demon could stand before he broke irrevocably, but he did not listen to it. He hadn’t listened to that part of him when it came to Minho in a very long time. So instead he slid his hand down Minho’s arm to cup his elbow, drawing him closer to the bed. Reluctance shone clearly in his face, but the demon allowed himself to be led to the edge of the bed.

Hyunjin lightly touched the top clasp on Minho’s coal-black coat, gaze flicking up to the demon’s in silent question.

The ashen-haired demon lifted his own hand and unfastened the clasp himself. His pale eyes challenged Hyunjin to continue.

The angel grinned and undid the rest of them, mere inches between their bodies. He pushed it off Minho’s shoulders and the demon let it fall to the ground, revealing the deep violet tunic he wore and his bare, lithely muscled arms. His hands clenched into fists as he fought to hide his trembling.

Hyunjin saw it anyway, of course.

‘Your turn,’ he said, gesturing to own coat, longer and sky-blue.

But Minho gritted his teeth, veins popping in his forearms as he tightened his fists. He shook his head.

‘Can’t,’ he growled.

Hyunjin leaned back, assessing the demon’s rigid form. ‘It’s being loud, hmm?’

Minho nodded, silky hair sliding forward.

Giving no warning, the angel cupped Minho’s jaw, making them both reel. The demon thoroughly caught off-guard, Hyunjin leaned in and sealed their mouths in a kiss. He didn’t give Minho a chance to get his bearings, curling his other hand around the demon’s bicep and swiping his tongue over the seam of the demon’s lips.

With the conscience drowned under a wave of overwhelming sensation, Minho was free to respond, free to greedily accept the gift Hyunjin pressed against his mouth and he parted his lips, inviting the angel in. He lifted a hand and twined it in Hyunjin’s thin plaits, tugging none too lightly.

The angel purred deep in his throat, licking into the demon’s mouth and tightening his hold on him. He grinned against Minho’s lips as the ashen-haired demon used his sharp claws to tear open the front of Hyunjin’s coat and rip through the military uniform underneath. Minho flattened his hand over the angel’s sternum, his claws pricking skin as he shivered – not that Hyunjin minded, pushing his chest into the touch.

Air wasn’t much of a concern for either the demon or the angel but Minho took a moment to pull back and snarl, ‘Get me out of these fucking clothes.’

The fiercely impatient words startled a breathy laugh from Hyunjin, who replied, ‘Certainly.’

The angel turned them both so Minho’s back was to the bed, then firmly pushed him onto it, gauzy curtains parting easily around him. The demon began moving backwards over the duvet but froze, the unforgiving angelic conscience rising like a tide within him now that he was not in contact with Hyunjin. His breath stuttered as agony threatened, but the angel was already there, having taken a second to divest himself of his ruined shirt and coat.

Hyunjin crawled over the demon’s body, braids hanging down, eyes ablaze in the gloom, and whispered, ‘I’ve got you, I’ve got you.’

He sank his teeth into Minho’s collar, sucking hard as he ripped open the violet tunic. Minho tossed his head back, silver-grey hair splayed out on the white beneath him, and an unfettered moan rose from his throat. He clamped his thighs around Hyunjin’s waist, hands restlessly roaming over the angel’s heavily muscled shoulders. Hyunjin worked his way down Minho’s defined chest, leaving a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses that had the demon gasping and arching up.

A blissful haze descended over the demon’s mind. It had been so, so long since the last time he was desperate enough to tumble into bed with this angel and now it felt like the first time all over again. Every rough press of callused fingers, every slide of warm lips and wet tongue, every _touch_ – he was so very sensitised to it, able to feel the echo of Hyunjin’s own experience washing over him too. Minho was near-delirious with exquisite sensation, the respite from that wretched conscience sweet.

Thoughts of after and tomorrow did not come upon either of them, the angel and the demon engaged in simply _being_. Hyunjin knew exactly what Minho wanted, what he needed, and the bright-eyed angel felt visceral satisfaction as he saw Minho fall to pieces beneath his touch.

It was not long before the rest of their clothes were removed, thrown carelessly this way and that. Sweat beaded on fair skin, matted the demon’s hair and messed up the angel’s plaits, although Minho’s desperate hands when Hyunjin went down on him might have had something to do with that. Soft groans, sharp cries, and breathy whimpers filled the air as they gave and took, gave and took.

When Hyunjin thrust into Minho and they both shook apart, tears spilled from the demon’s pale eyes. The angel licked the tears away and the demon could taste the salt in his mouth when Hyunjin kissed him.

Later, when the raw edge had been smoothed out, Minho rolled them over and pinned the angel to the thoroughly rumpled bed. Then he proceeded to kiss and bite his way across Hyunjin’s entire chest, sucking dark bruises into heated skin. The angel was especially sensitive around his nipples and the demon made ruthless use of this knowledge, driving Hyunjin mad with his teeth and tongue.

Holy fire sizzled under his fingers when Minho moved further down and nipped at Hyunjin’s thighs, the angel warning him. But the demon was not intimidated and he stayed where he was, lifting his head to look up through his fringe, pale eyes meeting bright ones. Those golden eyes flared and Minho hissed, his fingertips scorched, but he only dug his claws in and bit Hyunjin’s thigh harder, unrelenting until the angel gave in with a bitten off moan. The demon soothed the impressive mark he’d left with his tongue, then forced the angel’s thighs further apart and, ignoring his high-pitched whines, licked into him. Minho did not stop until Hyunjin was an exhausted, cursing wreck under his hands.

The sun never set any further than it had when they arrived, meaning the angel and the demon had no way of knowing how long they stayed there, indulging in the heady pleasures of touch. At last they were sated, Minho’s burning hunger for contact quieted and the touch-bond gentle and warm.

The angel lay on his back, messy plaits strewn over the pillows and his shoulders, while the demon was draped over him. Minho’s fist rested on Hyunjin’s chest, propping up his chin so he could observe the angel from under heavy eyelids. One of Hyunjin’s hands lay in the dip of the demon’s spine, absent-mindedly petting.

‘How’s the conscience?’

Hyunjin’s softly spoken question fell gently into the lull.

‘You know how it is,’ Minho replied, husky-voiced.

This was true – after so much skin contact, the pair could read each other’s internal situations almost as easily as they could their own.

‘Just checking,’ the angel singsonged.

The conscience, of course, was nowhere to be felt, smothered into submission by the touch-bond. Minho knew he would now be able to separate from Hyunjin without feeling pain, their... activities together enough to tide him over for some considerable time.

Until he needed his next hit.

His upper lip curled at the thought.

‘There is nothing we can do about it,’ Hyunjin reminded him, picking up on the demon’s frustration.

‘Why do you say “we”?’ Minho murmured. ‘Why are you still here, keeping me sane and alive? You say this is freely given, but you have no reason for it. Tell me.’

Hyunjin stared out a window, fiery eyes fixed on the dusky blue and purple sky. His hand never ceased stroking the soft skin of Minho’s back.

‘I don’t have a label for it because I don’t know what it is,’ he eventually answered oh-so-quietly. ‘It just... is. I can’t let you die, even if sometimes I really do want to kill you.’ He turned his gaze to the demon. ‘And in that case... why not enjoy you for as long as I can?’

Minho thought about that. At a glance, it sounded awfully impersonal and unfeeling, but he did not think it truly was. Not when he considered who the words came from, his angel with a cold heart.

‘Don’t let me wait so long next time,’ he said, instead of addressing Hyunjin’s reply.

The angel raised a brow at him. ‘You chased me off with a horde of hellhounds last time I came early.’

The demon’s forehead furrowed, lips pursing in what was dangerously close to a pout, although his tone stayed serious as he continued, ‘Doesn’t matter. I meant it when I said I can’t keep doing this.’ He sighed through his nose, the exhaustion from spending millennia by himself yet lingering. ‘Don’t let me push myself like that again. Please, Hyunjin.’

A slow blink of surprise. ‘Quite a needy one, aren’t you?’

The demon’s eyes fluttered shut. ‘I am,’ he replied, utterly shameless. He cracked an eye open once more. ‘But you’ll do it anyway, yes?’

Hyunjin snorted softly, corner of his mouth kicking up. ‘I will, Minho. For you, I will.’

Satisfied, Minho let his eye slip shut and he allowed himself to slide into a doze in this twilight world, his angel’s hand gentle and sure against his back. Hyunjin, too, released his grip on consciousness and soon followed his demon into the land of dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> as an aside, i was working on baf II for camp nano and can proudly say that that's now well on its way but there's a looooooong way to go before it's done! and now it's 2am byE


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